Of Love and Dreams
by MandaPanda2
Summary: A peek at life several years after "The Blackest of Lies".


Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes. Characters, plot references, and one (incorrectly pronounced) spell from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Press, Arthur A. Levine Books, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: T  
Genre: Romance  
Spoilers: Everything through Episode 134, then it drifts into AU  
Summary: A peek at life several years after _The Blackest of Lies_.

* * *

 _December 18, 2002_

"You're not nervous…are you?" Caitlin endured the long pause before he slowly shook his head. She giggled and leaned over, resting her hand on his knee. "Charlie," she sighed, kissing his cheek, "you already survived the toughest part: you met Daddy."

He chuckled and turned to her, the leather seat hissing beneath him as he moved. "Once. For dinner."

"But-"

"Cait, I spent _barely_ three hours with him."

They sighed in unison as she snuggled against him. Her father had been in Paris for work, so it seemed the perfect time for him to _finally_ meet Charlie. Perfect Charlie. Brilliant Charlie. Devastatingly handsome Charlie. Her boyfriend. Her love. Her dream come true. "You survived it," she murmured as his fingers danced against her bare arm. "He didn't hate you."

"Maybe. But, I don't think he _liked_ me."

She peeked up, not oblivious to the sullenness threaded through his sigh. His blue-gray eyes burned into hers and a lock of dark hair fell onto his forehead. The Paris to Los Angeles flight was hell, but there was something endearing about the way exhaustion softened his expression. "He _will_ ," she promised as she cupped his face. He chuckled to himself even as he kissed her, his hands drawing her closer. She smiled up at him, brushing back the lock from his forehead. "They all will," she continued as the Town Car slowed. They were here. She was home.

He glanced out the window as the chauffeur turned the car into the driveway. "You think this is going to be a nightmare?"

She smacked his arm playfully. Not again. "Christmas with my family in Sunset Beach. New Year's with yours in Sebastopol. Even stevens."

"Cait, you don't understand. My family _is_ a nightmare," he retorted.

She rolled her eyes and reached for her purse. But, not her family. For once, _her_ family was the normal one. It was a nice feeling. "Come on. You need some coffee."

* * *

Charlie followed Caitlin through the foyer, glancing around. The palatial Mediterranean-style mansion lived up to the description she gave him on the plane. He turned when he heard her call out, her voice echoing in the stairwell. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed as she turned back to him.

"What's that?" he asked, dropping his leather briefcase to the floor.

"No one's here." She chuckled disbelievingly and crossed her arms. "I thought for sure Mom or Rose would-"

A pair of feet thundered down the staircase, heralding the arrival of a small white dog and a small child. "Caitlin!" a little blonde girl exclaimed.

He watched his girlfriend laugh and scoop the child into her arms, covering her face with kisses. She spun around, her face lit up as she exclaimed, "Evy! Look at you! You're so big!"

"I'm five now!"

He tucked his hands into his jeans and watched as she neared him, the girl perched on her hip. "Charlie, this is my younger sister, Evy. Evy, this is Charlie."

He stepped forward and nodded slightly, unsure. Was he supposed to shake the child's hand? Hug her? Kiss her cheek? He only had younger brothers. He had no experience with a girl. "Hi," he said lamely, holding up his hand in a half-wave. Caitlin laughed at the same moment her sister squirmed out of her arms.

She skipped over and looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Are you allergic?" she asked, tugging on his hand.

"Uh…" He looked up at Caitlin, who only flashed him a smirk and said nothing. He turned back to the child. "Allergic to what?"

"Tater Tot." She bent down and scooped the small Maltese into her arms. He chuckled as Evy held up the dog to him, as if she expected him to take it. "Daddy and I are allergic, but we take medicine. Tater Tot is hippo-allergic, but if we don't take our medicine, we still sneeze a _lot_!"

"Oh." He held out his hand, letting the dog sniff it. "No, I'm not allergic."

"Evy, put her down. Charlie doesn't want her slobber all over him." She ran her hand over the girl's blonde curls as she moved to his side. "Where's Mom?"

The child sighed deeply as she nestled the dog against her chest. "In her office. She's on the phone with the goddamn FCC."

Charlie laughed aloud, ignoring the elbow jab Caitlin gave him. "Evy," she chided, "that's not nice to say!"

"But, why? That's what Mommy calls them."

He continued to chuckle. He liked the kid. He didn't know what to say to her, but he liked her. "Stop laughing," Caitlin hissed, though he could see amusement clouding her blue eyes. "She repeats _everything_!"

"I don't!" the child said petulantly. She sat down on the floor and giggled when the dog stood on her hind legs, resting her front paws against her.

"Why is the dog's name Tater Tot?" he asked out the corner of his mouth.

"Oh." Caitlin wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up. "She chose it. They're her favorite food."

"Tater Tot and tater tots with ketchup are my most favorite things in the whole world," Evy replied in a sing-song voice as she hugged the dog to her chest. She peeked up at them slyly and asked, "Caitlin…did you and Charlie bring me a present?"

"Hmm, maybe…" she replied mysteriously, winking at him. "Charlie, did we bring Evy a present?"

He thought of the box of pistachio macarons, the plaid dress, and the china doll he watched Caitlin carefully pack into her luggage. "Geez, I don't know, Cait," he marveled, rubbing the back of his neck. His girlfriend grinned as he played along and continued, " _Did_ we bring something for Evy?" The little girl looked up hopefully, tucking Tater Tot beneath her arm as he continued, "Oh. Wait. I think we left it in our apartment."

"Oh," Evy groaned, her bottom lip puffing out.

"Don't let her fool you," a voice announced. They looked up and Charlie saw an older woman standing in the foyer. Her hand covered the mouth of the portable phone as she continued, "The last thing that little girl needs is more gifts."

"But, Mommy," Evy exclaimed as she jumped to her feet, "Caity _always_ brings me a present!"

He watched their mother uncover the phone and hold up her index finger. "Thank you, gentlemen," she said to the people on the other end of the line. "Ken will follow-up on anything additional you need." She rolled her eyes, nodding in reply to something said on the call, as she walked into the living room. "Yes, yes. You as well." She tossed the handset onto the sofa as she reached for his girlfriend. "Oh, darling! You're home!"

Charlie felt her eyes on him, watching him over Caitlin's shoulder even as they embraced. He heard his girlfriend sniffle as she murmured something and pressed her face into her mother's neck. He knew she was close to her family. But, he didn't realize _how_ close until their flight to Los Angeles drew nearer and her excitement at seeing them again tripled. He swallowed as Caitlin and her mother finally turned to him, twin sets of blue eyes watching steadily. "Mom, this is Charles Salinger. Charlie," she said softly, "this is my mom, Olivia Richards."

If Caitlin's father made his dislike evident from the first moment of their meeting, it was the exact opposite with her mother. Olivia beamed and reached out, embracing him gently. "Welcome to our home," she sighed, their eyes meeting. He nodded, withstanding her inquisitive gaze until she was seemingly satisfied and nodded slightly. "You both must be exhausted!" she said, turning back to her daughter.

"I mean, we are – a little," Caitlin answered for them both. Evy stood next to her mother, watching all of them solemnly as she continued, "We'll take a nap before dinner. What time will Daddy be home?"

Olivia's response faded to the wayside as he tuned out, thinking of Caitlin's father. Of how he hoped to win him over. Of the conversation he needed to have with him. Of the question he needed to ask. He jumped when Caitlin leaned against him, asking, "What's with the baby basket?"

"It's for my babies!" Evy exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. He followed their gazes to the large wicker basket sitting next to the majestically decorated balsam spruce. "Aunt Bette gave it to me for Christmas!"

"Like I said," Olivia said, hugging the girl to her, "the last thing she needs right now is more gifts."

* * *

Olivia leaned against the door jamb, watching the trio down near the pool. The setting sun burned gold as it vanished behind the horizon, scattering fading light on the patio. Charlie towered over her two blonde daughters, his deep laughter echoing up to her ears. She would never admit it to Gregory, but she was deeply jealous that _he_ was the first one to meet their daughter's boyfriend. He returned home from the Paris trip with a vague and thoroughly _unhelpful_ description of the man who had been the hot topic in their daughter's emails and phone calls for months.

She smiled, watching as Charlie nodded seriously to something Evy was exclaiming. The five-year-old hopped from foot to foot, equally thrilled to have her older sister home and have a new audience in her boyfriend. It didn't take much to get the energetic child wound up. At her feet, the dog whined and paced before the glass doors. "Sorry, little one," she said as she lifted the tiny dog into her arms. "But, we can't have you going for a swim in the Jacuzzi again."

 _"Are they here?"_

She glanced over her shoulder as Gregory strode into the living room. His suit coat was already off as he loosened the knot of his tie. She nodded and knocked her head in the direction of the patio. A moment later, he pressed his chest against her back and his lips brushed against her ear. He sighed, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders as he looked out through the glass doors. "I see Pierre shaved off that beard of his."

"Darling, you know perfectly well what his name is." She frowned, annoyed that he hadn't mentioned Charlie had a beard when he met him. For such a brilliant man, her husband was painfully blasé on the minor details of their children's love lives. "He's as American as Caity."

"Whatever," he murmured, pushing away Tater Tot's sniffing face.

"You have to be nicer to him," she continued as she gently lowered the Maltese to the floor. She turned back to him as she stood, wrapping her arms around his neck. " _Much_ nicer."

"Oh?"

She nodded seriously as she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. His arms tightened around her waist, her silk blouse rippling, as he responded to the kiss. But, she pulled back slightly and whispered, "He's going to propose to her."

He inhaled sharply and she smirked, kissing him again quickly before he could utter the expletive dancing under his breath. "The hell he is," he finally insisted between kisses. "It hasn't even been a year."

She rolled her eyes. "Darling, you proposed to me after six months."

"That was different," he snapped as he turned away. "She doesn't know what she's getting into with him."

As he flung ice into the crystal tumbler, she cocked her head. "I was barely twenty when you proposed to me. She's twenty-five and far more sensible than I _ever_ was."

He glanced up quickly as the scotch splashed into the glass. "Don't underestimate yourself, Liv."

She returned his smile as she clasped her hands before her. "Thank you." She watched him take a deep sip of his drink as he neared her. She took his free hand and squeezed it gently as she pointed out, "She's dated several men since…Cole." Cole. His name burned her lips, the taste of an old coin left in her mouth. "But," she forced herself to continue, "Charlie is the only one she's brought home to meet us. He's taking her up to Sonoma County to meet his parents for New Year's."

"Olivia-"

She slipped into the nook of his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "He looks at her the same way you looked at me the night you proposed." Adoring, but nervous. Dazzled, but scared. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head before he sighed. She knew that particular sound. It was the only sign of defeat he ever showed. She patted his chest gently and slowly looked up. "They're going to come in soon," she pointed out. "We can't have you looking like death on the doorstep."

His smile was tense as he squeezed her shoulder. She watched him wander back to the patio doors, looking out through the glass. "Do you remember when she first went to Paris?" he asked.

She nodded. More than five years ago… They had reconciled. She was pregnant with Evy. Their family was healing. Caitlin came home from her semester in Paris, fluent in French and brimming with a newfound maturity. Mercifully, Cole stayed behind that Christmas, plagued with visa troubles. "She loved it there so much, she moved back after graduation," she murmured. Her relationship with Cole fizzled soon after, but their daughter wouldn't be deterred. Paris was her new home.

He looked over his shoulder and she couldn't quite place the amusement in his eyes. "When you said the best thing we could hope for was for her to meet some French kid." She nodded, vaguely remembering. "This is _better_."

She smiled, watching as he stepped out onto the patio to greet their daughters and their future son-in-law.

* * *

"I called the bank and had your credit limit increased. That should cover everything you need to get home." Gregory looked at the speaker phone, a hiss emitting from the speaker. "Sean?"

Muffled laughter replaced the silence. His son was distracted. "Right…so I'll be home in a few days."

He frowned and moved the phone's base closer. He wanted to make sure his son heard this loud and clear. "Sean, it takes five days to drive from Tuscaloosa. Your mother expects you home _before_ Christmas Eve. Do not disappoint her."

"Yeah. Got it."

"And, don't even _think_ about crossing the border for a few hours as you drive through El Paso. I don't want a call from the _Federales_ that you've been arrested."

Sean sighed and he could picture the way his son's brown eyes rolled back in their sockets. "Anything else?"

He sighed and pinched his nose, letting the sound of raucous laughter pass. "Drive safe."

There was a moment of silence before he heard his son sigh. "I will."

The static vanished when Sean hung up and he shook his head. Olivia was convinced their son would grow out of this phase. She insisted their son was merely "finding himself". Personally, he called it stubbornness. After all, after five years of college, how much more time would be needed for someone to find themselves? There was a tentative knock at the door and he glanced up. "Come in," he called out, steeling himself. If it was Caitlin or Evy, they would've just burst in. If it was Olivia, she would've opened the door as she knocked on it.

"Hello, sir," Charlie said. He sat up, watching as the young man hovered in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?"

He sighed deeply and pushed his stack of depositions aside. "I'm in the middle of a murder trial. _Every_ time is a bad time."

"Oh." Pause. "I can come back later."

Caitlin's young man was persistent. "No, no," he grumbled, gesturing him in. "You're already here." He might have told his wife that Charlie was better than a French kid, but that didn't mean he needed to make it easy on him.

Charlie nodded and stepped in, closing the door firmly behind him. He watched, saying nothing as he neared the desk and stood hesitantly. "Caitlin told me you were very fond of scotch." He nodded, still silent, as the young man gestured to the box in his arm. "When my grandfather died, he left me this." He set the wood box down and opened it slowly, the hinges creaking softly. "He bought it in 1947 when he married my grandmother."

Gregory sat forward, quietly admiring the way the light from his desk lamp glowed on the fifty-five-year-old bottle. "He never opened it?"

He shook his head as he carefully lifted the bottle from its silk bed. "No. He believed in the future. When he bought it, he told my grandmother it was a gift for their first grandson." The young man chuckled to himself as he stood the bottle on the desk. "This was two days into their marriage, so Grammy couldn't help but be amused."

He was impressed at the young man's tenacity to win him over. "Have a seat," he said quietly, gesturing to the chair.

"Thank you, sir." He sat, but then leaned forward, examining the bottle. "There's barely any sediment, but we'll give it a moment to settle."

He nodded and leaned back into his chair, watching the man who would marry his daughter. He wore the same unnaturally serious expression he had on at their dinner three months ago. But, he could see the anxiety brimming in his eyes. "The jet lag hasn't hit you?" he asked casually.

He looked up, almost as if he surprised at the question. "Not yet," he allowed. "We tried to sleep on the plane. We rested some after we arrived here." He and Caitlin were bleary-eyed at dinner, but not completely comatose. Not yet. "Caitlin is very excited to be here for Christmas, so I think that sentiment is sustaining us at the moment."

He cleared his throat and stood, coming around the desk. "Olivia was the same way every time we would go to London to visit her parents." He took two tumblers from the bar and set them next to the bottle. "She would be jet-lagged and almost delirious that first day, but she always insisted on staying up late with her parents to talk." On those first days, he always ended up carrying her to bed after she undoubtedly succumbed to exhaustion. "Why don't you do the honors?"

Charlie nodded and stood, breaking the wrapper on the bottle. "Neat?" he asked.

"Why not?" The dark liquor poured out of the bottle with barely a whisper. Gregory reached for the crystal glass, holding it beneath his nose for a long moment. "Cheers," he said, nodding to the young man. The spicy scotch warmed his throat before it settled and spread in his chest. He heard Charlie sigh appreciatively as he clutched his glass. "My compliments to your grandfather."

"Thank you," he said, turning to him. "I hope Sean won't mind that we didn't wait for him to open it."

He chuckled and leaned against his desk. "Like most college students on the five year academic plan, Sean prefers beer. He won't mind."

"Five year plan," Charlie repeated, letting the phrase linger between them. "I think my younger brother is already signed up for that. He just started at the University of Colorado." He chuckled sheepishly and met his eyes. "I think he's following my lead, but I turned out ok."

He said nothing and took a slow sip of the aged scotch. The silence took up the space between them, filling it like a third person. He could wait. He could ride out the quiet. He doubted Charlie could. Within several moments, he heard the younger man return his glass to the desk. "Sir," he heard him begin, "there's something I'd like to speak with you about." He looked up, watching as the younger man planted his feet and squared his shoulders. "A question I'd like to ask you."

"Yes."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet-covered box. "Sir, I'd like to ask Caitlin to marry me."

Gregory nodded, watching as he opened the box. An emerald-cut diamond solitaire rested on a white gold band. Different than the one he picked for Olivia, but then again, Caitlin was different than her mother. "I see," he said, his voice steady and even.

"I'd like your blessing before I do." He watched as the young man swallowed and continued, "If you give it, I'd like to propose to Caitlin on Christmas Eve."

"Before she meets your parents?" he asked. "Wouldn't you want to wait until after they meet her?"

He shook his head. "No. Caitlin said that her favorite day of the year is when she is here for Christmas Eve. It _needs_ to be then." He paused for a brief moment before he said, "It's more important for you and Olivia to be there than my parents." Gregory cleared his throat, chasing away the knot which suddenly appeared. The younger man mistook the silence and quickly continued, "I know you're probably thinking that Caitlin and I haven't been together very long. I know you're probably thinking that this is only the second time you and I have had a conversation. But…" He watched carefully as Charlie faltered, seemingly at a loss for words. "I need her, sir. She makes me complete. I- I don't want a life that doesn't include her."

 _I need her, Thomas. I can't imagine my life without her._ He didn't recall being afraid when he spoke those words to his future father-in-law almost thirty years ago. He believed in Olivia. With her in his life, he didn't know fear. But, he did fear the possibility of her _not_ being there. Of the sunlight fading and spending eternity in darkness. Of losing her. In that moment, asking her father for permission to marry her, the grim possibility seemed the closest to him that it had _ever_ been. But, it didn't come to be.

Gregory inhaled sharply, remembering the way grateful relief felt when he heard Thomas's reply. He held out his hand and channeled his late father-in-law as he replied quietly, "I'd be proud to have you for a son."

* * *

Evy snuggled against Mommy, hugging her tightly. Mommy was reading her the story of the boy with the lightning bolt scar who found out he was a wizard. She thought it would be fun to be a witch like Hermione. " _Wimgardio leviosa_ ," she whispered as she blinked sleepily, trying to stay awake. She still needed to practice the spells. They were in Mommy and Daddy's bed, but Daddy wasn't there. He was in his study, reading papers or yelling at people on his phone. She liked it when Daddy read to her because he did better voices than Mommy. (But, she wasn't going to tell Mommy that.)

Because Daddy wasn't there, Tater Tot was in the bed too. The dog lay on top of her feet, keeping them warm. That was her secret with Mommy. Daddy didn't like Tater Tot being in their big bed. But, Tater Tot went almost everywhere with her. Tater Tot was her friend. When she started going to school all day, she wouldn't be able to bring Tater Tot. She frowned and turned her face into Mommy's side. That made her sad. She felt Mommy hug her closer and, a moment later, she felt her kiss her forehead.

She closed her eyes and sighed, hearing Mommy close the book. "No…story," she murmured tiredly. She tried to open her eyes again, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. She got to stay up late tonight because Caitlin came home. She got to listen to Mommy and Caitlin talk and talk and talk. She didn't understand everything, but she wasn't mad about that. She was happy she got to stay up late with them. Like a big girl.

"Tomorrow night," she heard Mommy whisper. She shook her head and whimpered, but she still couldn't open her eyes. "I promise."

* * *

"Tomorrow night," Olivia murmured. She bit back a smile as Evy stubbornly shook her head. _So_ like her father – that unwillingness to give in. She ran her hand over the little girl's blonde hair, combing through the freshly shampooed ringlets with her fingers. "I promise." After a moment, the child finally gave up and she stilled. She pushed herself up and gently reached for the dog. Gregory would go through the roof if he saw the animal in their bed. She tossed a pillow onto the floor and lowered the dog to it. As the puppy curled herself into a ball, she carefully stood and reached for Evy. She loved her youngest child, but she was a restless sleeper who would often toss and turn all night long.

She carried her down the hall, passed Caitlin's closed door and Sean's open one. Sean. She narrowed her eyes, thinking of their headstrong son. Their son was so desperate to escape from their shadows, he ran all the way to Alabama for college. He certainly seemed in no hurry to graduate either. She sighed. _Mom,_ Caitlin exclaimed once, _it's a huge party school. Did you think Sean chose it for any other reason?_ Perhaps Caitlin could talk some sense into him when he finally got home. Nothing she seemed to say had any effect on him anymore.

Evy's room was illuminated with the golden glow from the nightlight on her bureau. She laid her on the bed and tucked the covers around her. Evy pursed her lips, still asleep despite the short trip down the hall in her arms. She crouched next to the bed, resting her arms on the mattress as she sighed. It was on a night like this more than three years ago when she first let herself believe Gregory was Evy's father. Not just hope, but believe. _Really_ believe. Certainly, the child looked enough like Caitlin and Sean that there were no awkward questions or suspicions raised. She had always hoped – indeed, _begged_ God – for Gregory to be her father. But, it was when she watched the toddler sleeping one night that she realized how much Evy _looked_ like Gregory. They both wore the same restless determination in their sleep, almost as if they were fighting their dreams. As she grew older, Evy began to exhibit more of Gregory's traits, both physically and in personality. But, it was her allergy to dogs that all but sealed her paternity. She blushed now, remembering the way she wept with joy after the results of Evy's allergy test came back.

A half-smile danced on her face as she leaned in, softly kissing her daughter's lips. "Sweet dreams, darling," she whispered, nuzzling her face gently. She stood slowly and slipped from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She clasped her hands over her heart and smiled. There was so much to be grateful for this Christmas. As soon as Sean got home, it would all be perfect. They would all be together again.

She turned into the master bedroom and closed the door, leaning against it. A moment later, she heard the sounds of Gregory puttering around his walk-in closet. Tater Tot sat at attention at the door to his closet, wagging her tail. The poor dog loved Gregory and sought his attention the most, though he barely gave her the time of day. She moved to his closet and leaned against its doorjamb. "Well?" she asked, watching as he shrugged out of his dress shirt. He chuckled at her question, but he wouldn't look at her. "Darling?" Silence. "It was certainly quiet in your study," she mused.

He tossed his shirt and undershirt into the hamper. Then, he finally turned to her. "Were you listening at the door?"

She smirked as he reached out and drew her against him. "Listening at the door is for amateurs, darling." He scoffed and she looked down as she admitted, "I may have sent Evy to listen instead."

He shook his head, but was unable to stop the chuckle from rising in his throat. "Did she hear anything good?" he asked.

"Not really," she confessed, splaying her palms on his bare chest. "She needs more practice."

"Should I be worried you're teaching our five-year-old to spy?"

"It's a life skill." She cupped his face, watching him carefully. "Gregory, did Charlie ask you?" He nodded slowly and she inhaled sharply before she asked, "And?"

"He's going to propose to her on Christmas Eve." She gasped and lowered her face, tears stinging her eyes. She felt her husband cup the back of her head briefly before he nudged her up. Tears shimmered in his eyes and she nodded when he continued, his voice tight, "He loves her."

She nodded, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Gregory!" she exclaimed. "Caity is getting married!" She laughed frivolously, throwing back her head as pure joy raced through her. His arms tightened around her, holding her in place as she pressed herself into him. "What did he say when he asked?"

He cupped her face and said nothing for a long moment. "He reminded me very much of a young man I once knew," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "Someone who was so in love with a woman that he couldn't imagine a moment without her."

She nodded, her fingers dancing against the nape of his neck. "For the woman, too, you know. She couldn't imagine a moment without him either."

"You know, Thomas took a chance on me," he continued and her eyebrow arched. "Until this evening, I had no clue what he must have gone through when I asked to marry you."

"Nonsense," she whispered, watching him carefully. "He loved you from the first moment he met you. Y-you were the son he always wanted." He smiled tightly before he glanced away and cleared his throat. Now, she was the one nudging his face up as she continued, "And…you were the _only_ one of my boyfriends he ever liked."

His sigh segued into a groan. "The boyfriends," he muttered, shaking his head slightly and she grinned. "You know how much I love hearing about _them_."

She nodded deeply, swallowing back a giggle as he held her hips. He guided her out of the closet, their breathing filling the silence. Practically thirty years of marriage and he was still as jealous of her old boyfriends as he was the day he first learned of them. "You were hardly a monk before me," she reminded him teasingly as the back of her legs bumped against their mattress. Love and dreams. That what's this life of hers – _theirs_ – was. Warm love and beautiful dreams. It all came true. Caitlin would know a life such as hers. That gave her the greatest of comforts.

"Damnit!" Gregory grunted as he jerked away from her. Tater Tot had jumped onto the bed and was using the added height to enthusiastically lick his bare arm. "Olivia, you know how I feel about the god damn dog in the bed!"

She exhaled deeply, her lips aching. "Just put her in Evy's room, darling," she said as he lifted the dog into his arms. She watched as Tater Tot sighed happily and nestled against his chest.

"I'll be _right_ back," he promised from the door, his brow arched tellingly.

Love.

Dreams.

Peace.

Everything.

THE END.

* * *

 _A/N: The title was inspired by the song "Christmas Time is Here" (written by Vince Guaraldi and Lee Mendelson). May all your days be merry and bright this holiday season! Wishing you the best in 2016!_


End file.
